


Checking Out

by weakinteraction



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bibliophilia, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingerfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: The Doctor takes Yaz on a date.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Femslash After Dark 2020





	Checking Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skvadern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skvadern/gifts).



The Doctor gripped the sides of the TARDIS console and grinned fiercely. "Ready?"

"Always," Yaz said, putting her hand over the Doctor's on the dematerialisation control.

* * *

This was roughly how all their dates started. Yaz (like the Doctor, or so she claimed) didn't have all that much experience of going on dates with humans, but it didn't -- couldn't -- compare. Sure, the first few times it had felt weird not taking Ryan and Graham with them, and the less said about the detour, or rather series of detours, on the way back from Ascension, the better. (Three subjective weeks, sixteen different stops, of which five involved foiling alien invasions, and three toppling dictatorial regimes, and all because the Doctor had won her over with "Here, Yaz, I know somewhere where they have waterfalls that flow uphill. That doesn't really make sense, does it? Maybe they're water-rises?" Only for it turn out that the real nomenclature issue was that they weren't water at all, but liquid helium. They were stunning, but the Extreme Environment Suit she'd had had to wear in the -272 ℃ cold had had a _very_ annoying AI personality she hadn't been able to work out how to switch off.

* * *

"What year did you say this was, again?" Yaz asked, as they headed up what was either the Champ de Mars or the Las Vegas Strip, judging by the Eiffel Tower at the end of it. The monument was dwarfed, however, by huge arcologies that rose on either side, and what should have been a wide road they were walking along was crowded with garish holographic displays from shops and street vendors, changing bewilderingly quickly in Yaz's peripheral vision.

"I didn't!" the Doctor said, pulling her along by the hand further and further up the thoroughfare. "But judging by the holomojorthography on the signs, it's late 2890s. It's a very distinctive style. If it had been one or two shops I'd have thought maybe they were just doing a retro thing, but nearly all of them? Got to be the original."

"Right," Yaz said slowly, not even able to summon up a "you just made that word up" in response.

"Anyway, here we are!" the Doctor said brightly. And before she knew it, Yaz was being pulled into a narrow doorway that she hadn't even realised was there, so cluttered was the pavement in front of it with holograms that definitely weren't there.

Inside, it was positively gloomy, or perhaps that was only by contrast with outside, where it had barely seemed like night time at all, between the holodisplays and the blazing lights of the arcologies.

As her eyes adjusted, though, and Yaz took in the small groups of people -- and not just humans, a range of different aliens were scattered amongst the tables, from lizard people with tall crests on either side of their head to hexapods with a single giant eye. The tables were wooden and had low lamps on them. And, more to the point, Yaz's finely honed senses gave her the distinct impression of illicit activity going on; everyone had a furtive air about them, as though even being found to be here would implicate them in something.

"Doctor, is this some sort of ... speakeasy?" Yaz found herself whispering; somehow it felt in keeping with the environment.

The Doctor looked at her then, full on, in the way that always melted Yaz's heart. "Oh, you are _good_ at this, Yasmin Khan. You really are. But I guess you could say, really, it's more of a readeasy. Or, as you would call it, a public library."

"I don't see any books," Yaz said.

"Of course you don't," the Doctor says. "They're holographically disguised." She tapped the alien nearest to them, one of the hexapods, on his -- her? their? probably their, Yaz decided -- shoulder. "Excuse me, my friend's new here. Do you mind if we come into your field?"

"By all means," the alien burbled. "It's always good to meet a new bibliophile."

"Doesn't recognise me," the Doctor whispered off-handedly to Yaz. "But is that because of the regeneration or because we're out of sequence ...?"

But Yaz was barely listening; she was stepping forward into the "field". As she did so, the air seemed to shimmer around her for a moment, and then the books on the desk became visible, great big stacks of them. The alien seemed to be speedreading them.

The Doctor turned to Yaz. "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Only you, Doctor, would bring someone on a date to a library. Even if it is a clandestine one."

The Doctor did one of her shrugs. "I mean, when I say it's wonderful, it's not wonderful that it's _needed_ , but wonderful that it exists, given that it is. And, well, just wonderful in general."

"But why is it needed, Doctor?"

The alien's bulbous head perked up when they heard Yaz use that name. "It is a sad fact that your government suppresses such ancient knowledge," they said. "Even reading these books is an offence punishable by hard labour in the lunar penal colonies. _Possessing_ them ..."

"So," Yaz said. "A library. A hidden one."

"Precisely," the Doctor said.

The Doctor was already heading towards the back, where, Yaz could dimly make out, racks and racks of shelving were laid out, all apparently empty but presumably in fact filled with books. "Come on, Yaz, what shall we ready first?"

* * *

"So what happens?" Yaz asked as they headed back to the TARDIS. They'd read for hours: Yaz had found old Earth classics, recent jeremiads against the Imperial Government, literature from dozens of alien worlds. There had even, bizarrely enough, been a book of Dalek poetry, though Yaz had been convinced she must be missing something there.

"The Empire doesn't so much fall as ... disintegrate," the Doctor said off-handedly. "Not without a lot of misery along the way, of course." She looked solemn for a moment, and Yaz avoided her piercing gaze; the thought of the same patterns echoing backwards and forwards across the span of history and the scale of the galaxy was almost too much to bear right at that moment. She forced a smile. "And without the Empire, the government here on Earth will lose its grip, be replaced by something more open democratic. Another few centuries and Earth will be a respected member of the Galactic Federation."

 _And a few centuries after that?_ Yaz wondered. She didn't say anything out loud, though; the Doctor was clearly determined not to ruin the atmosphere of their date. "Which book was your favourite?" she asked instead.

The Doctor visibly brightened then, the same way she did. "Did you see the Draconian translation of Shakespeare? That was amazing, the way it rendered things into their idiom ... Did I mention I've met Shakespeare?"

"And Charles Dickens too, I bet."

"As a matter of fact, I have," the Doctor said. "Agatha Christie, too. Love me a good author, me." She stopped. "I mean, not like I love you, that's a different thing. But you get the point ..."

Yaz narrowed her eyes. "Doctor, are you ... I mean, I know I said 'only you would take someone to a library for a date', but has all this turned you on?"

The Doctor looked at her with utmost seriousness. "Oh, immensely," she said.

* * *

Once they were inside, Yaz could hardly keep up with the Doctor's enthusiasm. She had pulled Yaz's trousers off and started making stuttering, frantic trails of kisses along both her thighs before Yaz had barely had time to register which bedroom it was that the Doctor had dragged her to. It didn't seem to be one they'd visited before, but then the TARDIS was infinite, or as big as made no difference.

"Did that place really turn you on this much?" Yaz asked.

The Doctor nodded. "All that _knowledge_ , Yaz. And people fighting hard to keep it alive. It's ..." She gave up on trying to express her excitement in words, opting instead to remove Yaz's knickers and start lapping urgently at her cunt. Despite Yaz's remaining confusion as to quite how much the Doctor seemed to have turned herself on with her date selection, her body responded as it always did to the probing of the Doctor's tongue, wetness meeting wetness, and soon Yaz's hands were tangled in the sheets as she arched her back as one orgasm rolled into another.

"Come here," Yaz said, suddenly feeling emboldened. "I want to taste myself on your lips."

The Doctor obliged, practically leaping up the bed to give Yaz a long and deep kiss. By the end of it, Yaz's fingers had found the Doctor's bifurcated clit and were stimulating both tips in a steadily building rhythm.

"You don't have to--" the Doctor began.

"I _want_ to."

"Oh, well, in that case ..."

"Yes?" Yaz said. It was very rare for the Doctor to make any sort of direct request when they were making love. She tended to be elliptical, at best, leaving Yaz to guess what would work best. Not that trial and error wasn't a very enjoyable way to learn.

"Do you think you could talk to me?"

"What, like dirty talk?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "Talk to me about books."

And so, as she stroked the Doctor more and more insistently, Yaz found herself describing the book she'd just finished, the one she'd just started, her all-time favourite, the ones she'd had to do for GCSE (a potted version of her essay on the author's use of coincidence in the plotting seemed to have a particularly strong effect), even the ones she remembered Nani reading to her when she was little, until finally the Doctor came, hard, harder than Yaz had ever seen before.

They lay there panting for a long moment.

"So," Yaz said, trying to fake insouciance and probably failing badly. "Does the TARDIS have a library?"

* * *

"This place is _amazing_ ," Yaz said.

The only word Yaz could come up with for the TARDIS library was "magical". It was like some cavernous temple devoted entirely to books -- or, at least, most of the contents were recognisable as such. There were shelves filled with strange artefacts that also seemed to be records of knowledge in some way, from vials filled with translucent liquids to upright triangular prisms that seemed to have trapped light inside them.

"Yeah, the old girl's done herself proud on this iteration of it, hasn't she?"

"Why didn't you bring me _here_ for our date?"

The Doctor tucked her hair behind her ear. "Wouldn't really count, would it? It would be like if I was a human and I picked you up in a car and then we just drove around. What would be the point in that?"

"But you're not a human," Yaz said, kissing her hard. "And the TARDIS _isn't_ a car."

"Most cars aren't dimensionally transcendental, I'll give you that," the Doctor said. Yaz rolled her eyes, gently. The Doctor seemed to get the message. "I've kind of wandered away from the point again, haven't I? The point being the kissing, and the other stuff." And with that, the Doctor kissed her again, and pushed her back onto one of the long reading tables.

"Seems like you've found your way back to the point, that's the main thing," Yaz said.

The Doctor crawled up onto the table, straddling Yaz. She slid her hand into Yaz's knickers and rapidly snaked its way to her clit. "And which point would that be, exactly?"

Yaz grinned at her. "You're on the right lines," she said. The Doctor bent down and kissed her as she pressed harder. "Please--"

"Tell me what you want," the Doctor said.

Yaz bit her lip momentarily. "My breasts," she said.

The Doctor brought her other hand up to Yaz's right breast, cupping it, even while she somehow managed to stay balanced above her. "Like this?" the Doctor asked.

"Your mouth," Yaz said.

The Doctor's eyebrows raised a centimetre or two and then she broke out into a grin. That was the last she saw of the Doctor's face, though, as she dived down to fulfil her wishes. Yaz felt the Doctor's lips pressing against her breast, as she kissed her way around them, and then her tongue began to dart out from between them, licking tiny trails across her skin. All the while, her hand was still pressed against Yaz's mound, not doing anything, but not moving away either. Then, finally, the Doctor spiralled inwards to Yaz's nipple, sucking it into her mouth. Yaz gasped and her back arched upwards involuntarily; she felt the Doctor's smile at her response pressing into her flesh.

The Doctor lifted her head away then, and Yaz thought that perhaps she would start stroking her again, but instead she simply bent down to the other breast and repeated the whole process. This time, though, at the moment of drawing Yaz's nipple into her mouth, she finally began to press her hand into Yaz's cunt, two of her fingers slipping inside easily. With a tiny adjustment of her position, she drove them in further, finding Yaz's G-spot and massaging it vigorously.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Yaz said. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

The Doctor's head poked up again. "I mean, ever's a long time. Unless you were being hyperbolic ... Right, you were being hyperbolic, weren't you, hyperbolic as a conic section." Yaz was barely listening to what she was saying, though, as the steady rhythm of the Doctor's fingers built and built, until she was coming, just as hard as the Doctor had earlier. When Yaz cried out in pleasure, the Doctor bent down to kiss her again, swallowing the sounds she was making.

"Now, now," the Doctor said. "Got to keep quiet in the library ..."


End file.
